Page 67 of King's Barber
I laughed and shook my head. Giving them each one more smile and hug, I finally made myself walk to the BMW, sliding into the red and gray leather seats. I honked the horn on the way out of the driveway and guided the car onto the road that led away from Vert Island. The airport was on the west side of the city, and I took the highway that led straight to it.
The cars around me moved fast, filtering into different lanes and dodging other vehicles. I stayed put in the middle lane, content to take my time. My flight didn’t leave for another three hours, but I liked to get there early for a stiff drink and a chance to relax. Sometimes I took private Society planes if I felt like it, but that meant I had to be more alert to my surroundings, and after the last few weeks, I needed the tranquility.
I peered into my rearview mirror when someone honked and frowned at the black Audi weaving between cars like a NASCAR driver. A red pickup needed to swerve to avoid being hit by it. Alertness seeped into me, and I placed both hands on the wheel, caught between focusing ahead of me and looking into my mirrors. The car positioned itself beside me, and I glanced out my window into the black tinted Audi, and Iknewhe was here for me.
Slamming on my brakes, I took a sharp turn onto an exit I hadn’t planned on taking, and he did the exact same thing, causing cars to smash into each other when they tried to avoid him. I raced down the exit ramp and onto another highway, but he was right behind me, the car veering to the right and left of my trunk as though he was trying to get around me. I weaved with him, blocking him from coming up beside me again, and his frustration was clear when he finally knocked the front of the Audi into my rear.
My BMW swerved and I grabbed the wheel, nearly losing control of it completely. On my feet I was a master assassin, but my weakness was cars. I fucking hated them.
I avoided a car that had braked in front of me, veering off the road and back onto it again, but my attacker did the same thing on the other side. He came back at me, and I yanked on my steering wheel, missing another hit from his car.
Frustration welled up in my chest and I reached over to the glove box, pulling out the Glock I kept there. I tapped the automatic window control, putting it down, and aimed the gun at the Audi. He veered away from me when I pulled the trigger, shattering his passenger window and giving me a fast peek at who was driving the other car. What I did see told me it was another Latino. A Reyes Cartel boy, no doubt. Probably a scout who hadn’t been at the house. And apparently he hadn’t gotten the message to stay away.
I grunted in irritation, and when he careened toward me again, I took another shot. This time it hit and he flopped forward, but the Audi still struck my BMW hard. With only one hand on the steering wheel, I didn’t have the control I needed, and with the force of the strike of metal to metal, my BMW headed straight off the road. There was nothing I could do to stop, not with the heaviness of the Audi against my side. I hit a rail hard and the car flipped like a pancake, rolling in the air as though it weighed nothing. All I could do was hold on for dear life and apologize to KC in my head. I’d really fucked this one up.
The BMW landed on its roof, the airbags exploding in front of me, and my head hit the crushed metal, sending me into a pit of darkness.
